


The Royal Treatment

by magisterpavus



Series: Voltron NSFW Week [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Alien Biology, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alliances, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Arranged Marriage, Bath Sex, Bioluminescence, Come Inflation, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunken Flirting, Emotional Hurt, Fingering, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Galra Keith (Voltron), Humor, Knotting, Lingerie, M/M, Making Out, Pillow Talk, Possessive Keith (Voltron), Prince Charming Lance, Princes & Princesses, Riding, Rough Sex, Scenting, Secret Identity, Sibling Rivalry, Size Difference, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), but he tries, that's a tag now fight me, yeah the galra dick is back baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: “You’ve met me, congratulations,” Keith said shortly. “Now go meet someone else.”“Ouch,” he said. “And that’s not true; I don’t even know your name yet!”Keith wrinkled his nose. Maybe telling this irksome creature his title would scare him off. “I am Lord Kethyr, second son of Emperor Zarkon,” he retorted. “Satisfied now?”The Altean, unfortunately, was not deterred in the slightest by this. “Ooh, a royal? How exciting. I’m Lance.”(DAY 7: SURPRISE)





	The Royal Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> just a side note, the Galran measurement I used is partly based off of the old Romanian measurement system, so 1 palmac=a little over 1 foot. as for the Altean units of time, 1 tick=1 second and 1 dobosh=1 minute
> 
> It's about time I wrote a Royalty AU, man, I've been wanting to do so for a while! One of my favorite things about Voltron is that it's literally confirmed that all AUs are real in-universe - hell yeah, alternate realities. And this is one of my personal favorites~
> 
> support me on tumblr [@saltyshiro](http://saltyshiro.tumblr.com/)

Altea was very…bright.

That was Keith’s first thought as they broke through the clouds and began their descent down towards the planet – the surface was covered with scattered deciduous forests and lush, rolling hills as far as the eye could see, framed by bright turquoise seas and snowy mountain ranges that were like nothing Keith had ever seen before. Altea hurt his eyes – it was so vibrant, too vibrant, like someone had turned the saturation all the way up. But it was beautiful, he supposed, in a blinding and nauseating sort of way.

Keith had to squint when they landed and stepped outside; walking down the gangplank with the rest of the Galra ambassadors amidst a roar of sound and a crowd of people that made Keith duck his head and flatten his ears uncomfortably. Already, he hated this.

As if reading his mind (or perhaps his not-so-subtle body language), Shiro draped an arm easily around his shoulders. Keith glanced up at him cautiously – he was waving to the onlookers and smiling, of course, the perfect picture of what an ambassador should be. And he was human, so he had an unfair advantage when it came to popularity, but still…Keith swore Takashi Shirogane could make any crowd adore him in five ticks flat.

“Wave,” Shiro said out of the corner of his mouth. “And at least try to look like you’re enjoying this, c’mon. It’s not every day you get to visit Altea.”

“Thankfully,” Keith muttered. But he grudgingly raised a hand and gave the crowd a halfhearted wave. He needn’t have bothered – they were sufficiently distracted by Shiro, and, of course, Lotor. If Shiro could make crowds like him, Lotor could make them grovel at his feet, and enjoy doing it. Keith would never understand his half-brother’s natural charisma – it had certainly never made him like Lotor any more than usual. But, he admitted grudgingly, charisma was a good thing to have on a mission like this. Lotor was here to negotiate his own wedding, after all.

Their arrival was being announced by a pale male Altean with bright orange hair and an impressively curly, equally orange mustache. Keith tried not to stare at him too much, but he found the brightness of his hair fascinating – Galra hair came in three shades only; white, purple, and black. Alteans, as far as he could discern, had hair of every shade and style imaginable.

Shiro elbowed him lightly. “Keith, focus.”

Keith blinked, muttered a hasty apology, and hurried after Lotor and Commander Sendak, who were being ushered towards the gleaming white palace steps. Keith didn’t want to go in there. He wanted to go back to his quarters on Daibazaal, where there were no painfully bright colors and stressful crowds and obligatory talks he had to attend.

It was infuriating, because it wasn’t as if anyone would even listen to him at the talks – he was attending as a prop only, not as the son of Zarkon. Lotor was the son of Zarkon that mattered; he was the half-Altean heir who had inherited his mother’s beauty and wit and his father’s strength and leadership, the perfect result of the alliance between Alteans and the Galra. Lotor was the one who would be marrying a member of the Altean royal family to continue that alliance.

Keith was just the half-human bastard who had killed his concubine mother during childbirth and retained neither his mother’s beauty nor his father’s strength. But he was convenient for diplomatic missions like this one, because he was less intimidating than his half-brother or any of Zarkon’s fearsome commanders. Potential allies were more likely to become actual allies if they didn’t think every Galra was eight palmacs tall and heavily scarred. On Planet Arusia, one of the locals had politely told Keith that they’d never seen a Galra child before, and while Lotor laughed and laughed Keith was forced to reply through gritted teeth that he was an adult, thank you very much, but understood the source of their confusion.

He wasn’t even that short. He was as tall as Shiro, and Shiro was considered a very tall human. Or maybe Shiro just told him that to make him feel better about himself. Keith sighed, and ascended the palace steps, finding some relief when cool shadows washed over their party as they entered the castle proper. Their orange-haired guide was going on and on about the royal family and the history of the palace and any other time, Keith might have actually been interested, but right now he was tired and grumpy and already done with this mission.

Evidently their guide noticed Keith’s lack of enthusiasm, because halfway through the tour he paused and said, “I realize you must be tired from your long journey! If any of you so wishes, a servant can escort you to your guest chambers now, so you can rest before the gala tonight!”

Keith had forgotten about the gala. He swallowed his pride and raised a hand coolly, ignoring Lotor’s eyeroll, and was thankfully spared from the rest of the tour by a tall female Altean with long magenta hair and a cheery yellow markings on her face and arms. She tried her best to make small talk with him on the way.

“I’m Florona! And you’re the Emperor’s younger son, right? You must be so excited to be visiting Altea for the first time! It is a simply beautiful place, as I’m sure you’ve gathered already.”

“It is very colorful,” Keith offered, not wanting to be rude. “We don’t have many plants like this on Daibazaal.”

She gasped. “No plants? Oh, how terrible! I have a flower garden at home, you know, it’s my pride and joy. We have all sorts of flowers here on Altea. Do you have any at all on Daibazaal?”

“Um…a few. But they’re not very pretty. More like…weeds. And they have many thorns.”

Florona looked disappointed. “That’s too bad. What do you have on Daibazaal, if not flowers?”

“We have impressive mountain ranges,” Keith said. “And mines full of valuable minerals.”

Her eyes lit up at that. “Ooh, like jewels?”

“Some,” Keith said, confused, “but mostly minerals to be used for energy purposes.”

Florona’s excitement dimmed again. “Oh. Well, here on Altea, we mine many jewels simply for aesthetic purposes! For example, the prince is particularly fond of sapphires, and is never seen without them. They match his markings so perfectly! He’ll be at the gala tonight, perhaps you’ll meet him! I believe he’s around your age.”

Keith sighed and hoped the prince wasn’t twelve years old, though he wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Ah, and here we are, sir, the chambers where you’ll be staying!” Florona came to a stop in front of an extravagantly carved door. Keith squinted and thought he could make out some kind of large aquatic beast with tusks in the design. Intriguing.

“Thank you, Florona,” he said.

“Will you be requiring anything else, sir?”

He shook his head with a tired smile. “I just need a nap.”

“Sleep well, then!” she trilled, turning on her heel and practically skipping away.

Keith heaved another, bigger sigh, and hoped the bed was at least soft.

*

“Keith. Wake up. _Keith._ Kethyr!”

Keith grumbled into his pillow. “Shiro. What.” Then he bolted upright, eyes wide. “How did you get in?!”

“You left your door unlocked,” Shiro retorted. “Anyone could have walked in and assassinated you in your sleep; unfortunately for you they did not and it’s time to go the gala.”

“Can I fake my assassination instead?” Keith asked hopefully.

“No, but you can get dressed right now,” Shiro said.

“I don’t want to go,” Keith complained as he tugged on the fancy outfit he’d been assigned. At least it was black, but it was uncomfortably low-cut and the pants were rather too tight for his liking. He had no doubt Lotor was behind it. “I look ridiculous, and I have no desire to stand around watching Lotor charm everyone into submission. You and I both know there’s no reason for me to go to this,” he pleaded, standing in front of the mirror and tugging in frustration at the hem of the tunic.

“You’re a part of this mission, Keith,” Shiro said, coming over to stand beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “You should be there. And who knows, maybe this time you’ll do more than stand around and watch. You could engage a little, you know.”

Keith frowned. “I thought you said I was an ‘introvert,’ and that it was fine for me to dislike social interaction.”

“Not all the time, Keith,” Shiro said, shaking his head fondly. “Just…try, alright? Just try. You might be surprised.” He smiled. “And for the record, I think you look great. The tunic makes your shoulders look wider and the cut defines your muscle. It makes you look strong – like the Emperor’s son that you are.”

“But Lotor –”

“Don’t compare yourself to Lotor,” Shiro said sharply, and Keith blinked in surprise – Shiro never snapped at him, but he sounded insistent now. “Being more human than Galra isn’t a bad thing, Keith,” he added, gentler. “And maybe those traits are more attractive to some Alteans than what Lotor has to offer.”

Keith sighed, unconvinced. “You know I’ll go,” he said dully. “It’s my duty, so I’ll go.”

But this gala would be no different than the others, Keith was sure of it.

*

As expected, the gala was torture. Prolonged, painful torture. Keith couldn’t wait to leave.

He’d been trailing Shiro for a while, but eventually Shiro was taken away from him by some impertinent old Altean who wouldn’t shut up about interplanetary trade routes. Which left Keith standing awkwardly in the corner beside a stone pillar, attempting to hide behind some large ferny plants, mentally debating whether it was worth the terrifying trek across the room to get a drink.

“Wow, you’re kinda short for a Galra, aren’t you?”

Keith stiffened and turned to face this newest annoyance…and faltered. It was an Altean – a shockingly _pretty_ Altean, to be specific, young with bright blue eyes and brighter blue markings, smooth brown skin, short silvery hair, and a perfect smirk. Somehow, his prettiness just made him even more annoying…that and the fact that he was only a couple palmacs shorter than Keith even while leaning casually against the stone pillar. The other Galra towered over the Alteans in comparison.

Keith opened his mouth and closed it before settling on a scowl. “And you’re kind of an asshole,” he retorted, eyes narrowing.

The Altean looked taken aback. “Whoa, calm down, it was a simple observation, not an insult. Promise.”

Keith’s eyes remained narrowed. “Well, I suggest you make your simple observations _elsewhere_ ,” he gritted out.

The Altean’s smirk grew. “What if I just like making them about you?”

Keith blinked. This wasn’t…what? “What?” he said, eloquently. “Why?”

“Because you’re cute, duh?” he said, arching a thin, silver eyebrow. Keith swallowed. “And I’m admittedly curious about you guys – thought I should probably meet a real, live Galra properly, before the negotiations begin.” He jerked a thumb back to where Lotor and Sendak were lounging in a secluded corner with a great deal of alcohol. “And to be honest, they’re terrifying.”

Keith sniffed, eying him uncertainly. “So, what, I’m not?”

The Altean shrugged, pursing his (really nice) lips thoughtfully. “I mean…you probably could be; you’ve got the claws and teeth and all, don’t you? And those freaky eyes, too. But right now? Nah, right now you just look like a pissed-off cat.”

Keith bristled. Shiro had said something similar to him, once, but Shiro was allowed to say things like that. This was a stranger – a pretty stranger who thought he was cute, but a stranger nonetheless. “You’ve met me, congratulations,” Keith said shortly. “Now go meet someone else.”

“Ouch,” he said. “And that’s not true; I don’t even know your name yet!”

Keith wrinkled his nose. Maybe telling this irksome creature his title would scare him off. “I am Lord Kethyr, second son of Emperor Zarkon,” he retorted. “Satisfied now?”

The Altean, unfortunately, was not deterred in the slightest by this. “Ooh, a royal? How exciting. I’m Lance.”

“I’m a Lord, not a Prince,” Keith said.

Lance’s brow furrowed. “But you’re Zarkon’s son, so that makes you royal –”

“If you want a royal, go meet my half-brother Prince Lotor,” Keith snapped. “I’m sure he’d be _delighted_ to chat with you.”

Lotor would be delighted to do more than chat with this impudent Altean boy, but Keith figured he would find that out on his own soon enough.

But Lance didn’t budge. “I don’t want to meet Lotor,” he said.

Keith paused. “Then what do you want? To continue irritating me?”

“I want to get you a drink,” Lance said.

Keith froze. “Uhm,” he said. “A…drink?”

“Sure. Galra drink, don’t they? Or something to eat, if you prefer. Or flowers…I can do flowers, too.”

Keith needed to sit down. “Flowers?” he squeaked.

“Let’s start with a drink,” Lance declared, and hurried off to get one, leaving Keith standing there and gaping like a fish.

“What the quiznak was that,” he whispered to a nearby plant. Its turquoise leaves waved around like it was laughing at him.

He thought maybe he should make a run for it – maybe go find Shiro and tell him…well, tell him what? Shiro would probably just laugh at him too. And…and if Keith rejected the Altean named Lance, he might change his mind about wanting to meet Lotor, and Lotor certainly wouldn’t reject him. That thought made something curl low and sharp in his belly – jealousy, and determination, he realized. So he decided to stay. He was here to have _fun_ , after all.

Lance returned with a frothy pink drink that smelled like some kind of sugary fruit. “It’s called razzle, it’s great,” Lance said, holding it out to him like an offering. “Very alcoholic too.”

Keith took the glass gingerly. “Trying to get me drunk?” he asked, sniffing it and raising an eyebrow.

Lance blanched. “Oh – no, quiznak, no, that’s not, I wouldn’t –”

Keith grinned a little. It was sort of fun to make him squirm. “I like alcohol,” Keith assured him, and took a sip before holding it out to Lance, brows raised. The drink burned the back of his throat before dissolving into a fizzling warmth. “Do you?”

Lance blinked, smiling slowly and nodding, taking the offered glass and tipping it back. “Mm,” he said, smacking his lips. “What would you say if I suggested we _both_ get drunk?”

Keith tilted his head. “And why would we have to be drunk?”

“We don’t have to be, I ‘spose,” Lance admitted, his ear tips slightly pink. “But I might want to be a little less sober.”

“I can do a little less sober,” Keith agreed. “But you still haven’t answered the question. What do you have in mind that would require us to be ‘a little less sober,’ Lance?”

Lance took another sip, and licked pink foam from his lips slowly. “I can’t honestly tell if you’re flirting or interrogating me right now.”

Keith’s lips quirked. “Guess.”

“Well, I know which one I _want_ it to be,” Lance drawled, stepping closer.

“You do seem to know what you want,” Keith agreed, looking down at him.

“Yes,” Lance murmured. “I can think of quite a few things I want you to do to me, Kethyr.” Keith snorted despite his best efforts to keep a straight face. Lance frowned. “What?”

“Kethyr is my more formal name,” Keith explained, taking another sip of the razzle, the warmth spreading from his throat into his chest. “Makes me think of boring courtly duties. Those I am more familiar with just call me Keith.”

“Keith,” Lance repeated, and smirked. “Are we familiar, then?”

“I thought that was your goal,” Keith replied. “Continue your wooing, and we shall see.”

“Ooh, this one plays hard to get,” Lance said, clicking his tongue.

“Who said I was playing?” Keith retorted, and instantly regretted it. This drink was far too strong for its own good.

Lance’s eyes widened. “Ah, I see,” he said. “You really don’t do this sort of thing often…or at all.”

Keith hunched his shoulders and did his best to hide in his drink. “Go on, say what you mean to say,” he muttered. “I doubt it’s worse than anything I’ve heard from my own family.”

Lance’s ears flicked back, and though among the Galra that tended to convey displeasure or shame, Keith read it in Alteans as more of…concern? Lance’s tone of voice was certainly concerned. “It is entirely up to you how you prefer to spend your time; they should not make you feel badly about that.”

“Coming from someone who prefers to spend their time in a very particular way?” Keith said archly.

Lance must have realized he was desperately trying to redirect the conversation, but he still rose to the bait. “As a matter of fact, I do. And I quite like my choices, thank you.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Keith said, again without meaning to.

Lance’s brow creased. “Glad?”

“Glad that you, ah, are enjoying yourself, I mean,” Keith stammered, “and that you don’t regret…putting yourself out there. As it were.”

“That is the politest way I’ve ever heard anyone say it,” Lance chuckled. “And here I thought you Galra were supposed to be blunt in your manner of speaking…and acting.”

Keith swallowed another mouthful of razzle and regarded him more seriously than before. “And is this knowledge about my people all theoretical, or have you actually experienced it in person?”

“Are you asking if I’ve ever fucked a Galra before?” Lance said, smirking, startling Keith with the sudden vulgarity. Not a bad startle, though. “Because the answer is no,” he added, gaze never leaving Keith’s. “You’d be my first.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “I. I see. That is. Interesting.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Interesting, yes, perhaps you should ponder it in greater detail…in a more private setting.” 

He looked pointedly at the throngs of people around them, all chatting and absorbed mostly in each other…but Keith saw a familiar face across the room, and saw with some chagrin that Shiro had been engaged in conversation with a beautiful Altean woman with dark skin and fluffy billows of platinum hair. Emphasis on the _had_ – Shiro was now looking at Keith with a raised brow and an amused tilt to his lips, and had the audacity to wink when Keith made eye contact and flattened his ears.

Lance followed his gaze. “Friend of yours?” he asked casually.

“Earth’s permanently stationed ambassador to the Galra,” Keith said shortly. “Takashi Shirogane. Who’s that woman he’s speaking to?”

Lance took another sip of razzle, a much longer one. “Princess Allura,” he replied. “King Alfor’s eldest child, and the heir.” He sighed. “But I’m sure you’ll learn such details at the talks later, and now is not the time for that. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Keith said with feeling. “I am dreading those talks, truthfully.”

“They are dreadful,” Lance said. “You know what else is dreadful?”

“Hmm?” Keith asked, distracted by the curve of Lance’s neck as he leaned forward – it was long and smooth and _soft_ , perfect for bruising, biting, marking.

“Not being able to kiss you this very moment,” Lance said, eyes glittering.

Keith startled back. Lance’s face fell. “I…you really want to?” Keith whispered.

“Well, of course, did you think I was just making empty promises?” Lance said. “Honestly, I’m shocked no one has spirited you away to some secluded alcove already, Keith – you’re really beautiful.”

Keith was sure he must be joking, but Lance was still looking up at him, hopeful and smiling playfully. “You’re…really beautiful, too,” Keith said.

“Aww, you flatterer.” Lance beamed at him, and took the last sip of razzle before tossing the empty glass into the potted plants. “So? What do you say; shall we make our grand escape? You don’t seem to like parties, and I can’t say I blame you…not when there are so many other, better things we could be doing tonight.”

Lance was charming. Frighteningly charming. But Keith was hopelessly enamored by him, and now that Lance had planted it there he just couldn’t banish the idea of kissing Lance from his mind. So he nodded, and said, “I’ll hold you to that, Lance. Lead the way.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Lance giggled, and grabbed his hand, tugging him off into the night.

*

“You…had this all planned out, I see.”

Keith gazed with no small amount of wonder at the high, vaulted ceilings and beautiful mosaic tiles in what appeared to be a private bathhouse of some sort. Lance had brought him through a veritable maze of hallways and courtyards and staircases to reach this building, but now that they were there, Keith could see someone had been here recently.

Everything gleamed as if freshly cleaned, one of the baths was filled with steam rising from it that imbued the air with a sweet, heady scent, and there were dozens of bathing supplies on the side of the bath ranging from towels to lotion to brushes to several items that were, upon further examination, not bathing supplies at all. Keith flushed, and knew it wasn’t just from the steam.

“You got me there,” Lance said, unashamed by his obvious preparation. “Admittedly, I saw you arrive at the palace, Keith. And I knew from that very moment…”

“That you wanted to take a bath with me?” Keith blurted, ears immediately flicking back in chagrin when Lance laughed.

But Lance wasn’t mocking him, and he threw an arm around Keith’s shoulders, walking him over to the waiting bath. “That would be a good start, but…not the main event I had in mind. If you’re feeling adventurous...”

Keith didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep – all this set-up was making him feel quite nervous. Lance clearly had high expectations. Keith didn’t have a good history with high expectations. He chose his words carefully. “I…appreciate that you did all this,” he gestured to the bath, “with me in mind. But...” Keith wrung his hands a little helplessly. “I don’t know that I’m worthy of such attention, Lance. This can’t have been easy for you to procure and…I’m afraid that it might all be a bit of a waste.”

Lance blinked at him, brow furrowing. “Excuse you, I believe I’ll decide for myself whether you’re worthy of such attention, of _my_ attention, and I have decided you most definitely are. So that’s quite enough of that, Keith. The only way any of this will be a waste is if you leave –”

“I don’t want to leave!” Keith exclaimed. “That’s not what I –”

“Well, good, then it’s settled,” Lance said with a bright smile. “We shall bathe together, and do more together if you wish, and it will be lovely and everyone stuck at the party would be terribly jealous of our fun if they knew the half of it.”

Keith opened his mouth, then closed it, deciding further argument was not going to dissuade this stubborn Altean. Stubborn, but charming. “Alright,” Keith conceded. “So we shall, Lance.”

“Good!” Lance declared, and promptly began stripping his fine clothes from his body. Keith hadn’t realized how fine they were, before, and his gaze snagged on the sparkling blue jewels at Lance’s throat as he unpinned his cloak. Lance noticed his stare and raised an eyebrow. “Enjoying the view? I don’t blame you, though I wouldn’t mind if you joined in.”

Keith cleared his throat and, because he figured fair was fair, unbuckled his belt and slipped off his tunic with minor difficulty, certain his hair was a mess as he emerged shirtless from the heap of black fabric. Lance had blue jewels in his ears, too, small and glittering but hard to ignore nonetheless. “Lance,” Keith said slowly, “if you don’t mind me asking, are you a noble, too? Your attire looks very…ornate.”

Lance waved a hand at his discarded clothes and started on his breeches, not missing a beat. “Oh, this? I know you Galra are quite austere and simple in your fashions, but all Alteans tend to gravitate towards extravagance. I am but the youngest son of a youngest son, you see.” He laughed, and the sound was like bells chiming, musical and nothing like Galra laughter. “But, my father’s position in the court does give me access to venues like this one, which is a lucky thing, because my frequent late-night liaisons are not something my father likes to know about.”

“Does he try to stop you?” Keith asked. “Surely you must be an adult and can do what you like.”

“Oh, an adult, yes, but one kept on a very tight leash.” Lance rolled his eyes. “If my father had his way, I’m certain I’d be confined to my rooms every night, having no fun whatsoever.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Keith countered timidly. “I like staying in my rooms on Daibazaal. It’s quiet there; peaceful.”

“But it must get lonely, mustn’t it?” Lance asked, batting his eyelashes and stepping into Keith’s space, down to his underclothes, which were…Keith’s eyes widened and Lance smirked, snapping the waistband of the sheer, lacy blue garment. The sweet scent in the air was getting stronger, making Keith dizzy. “Do you like them? I do. They’re my favorite…I have a pair in every color. What’s your favorite color, Keith?”

Keith hadn’t ever considered that before, truth be told. Galra weren’t big on personal preferences and individualism. But the first thing he thought of was his home, with its crimson peaks and maroon deserts, and he said, “Red.”

It must have been the right answer, because Lance’s smirk widened. He reached out and took ahold of Keith’s wrist, moved it slowly towards the blue lace, until one of Keith’s claws hooked onto the fabric. Keith bit his lip, he didn’t want to rip it; Lance had said these were his favorite after all. His hand looked too large and rough beside the delicate lace, but maybe that was exactly why Lance liked it.

“Red,” Lance repeated. “It suits you, Keith. That’s the color of passion, you know…are you passionate, Keith? Is there a fire inside you, just burning to be released…?”

Keith’s claw curled dangerously in the fabric, and he snatched it away hastily before he could do any damage. Lance was undeterred, just hooked his own long, clawless fingers into the waistband and tugged the garment down, his cock springing free. At least, Keith supposed it was a cock. He tilted his head at the long, curling appendage – it almost looked like one of the potted ferns at the party. But made of flesh, obviously, and _glowing_ , from the thicker root to the thinly tapered tip. It was smooth save for some kind of ribbing on the underside, where most of the glow seemed to emanate from.

Lance was very glowy. Now that the Altean was fully naked, Keith could see all the patterns Alteans kept hidden away under their clothes – and he thought hiding them was a shame, because they were incredible. Long lines of bioluminescent blue curled like elegant, symmetrical vines over Lance’s chest, thighs, and upper arms, breaking off into smaller curls and swirls at his hips and down between his legs. The bathhouse was dimly lit, whereas the party had been brighter, hiding Lance’s glow. But here…unthinking, Keith reached out to touch one of the lines on Lance’s chest.

The Altean jolted at the contact and Keith hastily stepped away, stammering out an apology, but Lance smiled and said, “No, no, your claws are just cold. Don’t worry. You can touch me. Can I touch you, too?”

Keith gulped. He still had his pants on, but Lance was eying his bare chest with something like hunger. “Yes,” he whispered.

Lance smoothed his hands over Keith’s chest immediately, his lips parted. “Soft,” he murmured, glancing up at Keith. Keith had less fur on his body than most Galra, just a fine layer of lavender fluff, heavier at his shoulders, jaw, ears, the backs of his calves, and between his legs. Lance seemed entranced by it, and even more so by Keith’s muscles. They were also inferior to most other Galra, but Lance had no problems with them. “And so strong,” he added, squeezing at Keith’s bicep and tracing the corded veins through his forearms.

“I have heard Alteans are quite strong, too,” Keith managed, looking down at him.

“Oh, well,” Lance chuckled, “I suppose we are. You wouldn’t know it just from looking at us though, would you? But you Galra make your strength ever so obvious. I can’t say I find it unappealing.”

“I’m not considered very strong, comparatively,” Keith muttered, his head going warm and fuzzy whenever Lance touched him with those small, soft, curious hands.

“Really?” Lance made a thoughtful sound. “Are you not fully Galra, like Prince Lotor?”

Keith bit his lip. “Half human, yes,” he said. “Have you, um, ever been with a human?”

Lance considered it. “Hmm…actually, yes, a human female, once. She was wonderful, though as I understand it there are some key differences between human males and females.”

“Aren’t there key differences between Altean males and females too?” Keith asked.

Lance grinned. “Not many. Female Alteans have more mammary tissue and slightly wider hips, but the function is the same.”

Keith blinked, eyes darting downwards, and then back up to Lance’s face. “So…Alteans are hermaphroditic?”

Lance inclined his head, and his cock curled between his legs. Dazedly, Keith wondered how far back it could curl. “We are.” Lance’s expression turned sly. “But these need to come off, first. Are you more Galra or human here, I wonder?” His palm pressed lightly over the visible bulge in Keith’s too-tight pants and Keith’s breath hitched.

“More Galra,” he said unsteadily, “I think. Oh…”

Lance unlaced his pants deftly, giggling when Keith almost tripped over his own feet in his attempts to peel them off. “I think those are a size too small,” he told Keith when he’d finally wrestled his feet out of them.

Keith scowled. “Yes, they are. I certainly didn’t pick them out.”

“Oh? Then who did?”

“Probably Lotor,” Keith mumbled, “just to make me…suffer…”

Lance was shaping Keith through the thin black fabric of his underwear, pressing closer until his cock slid over Keith’s bare hip, leaving wet patches on his fur. “But you’re not suffering now, are you, Keith,” Lance drawled. Keith shook his head jerkily, and bit his lip hard when Lance’s hands slipped into his underwear. The Altean’s eyes went wide.

Keith, who was rapidly running out of patience, shoved his underwear down. Lance squeaked, sounding surprised yet delighted. His cock looked huge in Lance’s hands, Keith realized as he looked down – it must have seemed huge to Lance, it was as thick as his forearm and nearly as long. “Is this normal for Galra?” Lance breathed, still holding Keith’s cock and running reverent fingers over it, coaxing it into full hardness and gasping as the purple-pink head emerged from its sheath, already slick.

“Normal?” Keith repeated stupidly, hips stuttering into Lance’s grip as his exploration continued down to the faintly rounded base, where his knot resided. “I, uh, I mean I’m shorter than most Galra, so, it’s not considered large, if that’s what you mean –”

“Not considered large?!” Lance squawked. “Quiznak, you really are a race of giants. I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t try to go for any ‘normal-sized’ Galra, or I might be torn in half!”

Keith’s brow furrowed, alarmed. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said hastily.

Lance blinked up at him as if caught off guard. “You’re sweet,” he said after a pause, sounding like he really meant it. “But don’t worry about that, we’ll make this work – there is absolutely no way I’m wasting this gift.”

“Gift?” Keith snorted. His dick had never been referred to as a gift before, that was for sure.

“Yes,” Lance declared, “now let’s take a bath, and you can show me how this gift of yours works.” He took Keith’s hand and waded into the warm water with him, the glowing markings looking strange under the water and sending rippling reflections all across the sides of the bath. Keith followed him in hesitantly as Lance settled on a shelf where the water came up to the Altean’s mid-chest, but barely covered Keith’s hips.

“How it…works?” Keith eyed him uncertainly. “It’s not exactly complicated.”

“It’s different, and I want to know how different,” Lance retorted. He couldn’t seem to stop touching Keith, especially the tip of his cock and just under the sheath, which made Keith squirm. His hands wandered further to cup Keith’s sac, squeezing lightly as Keith sucked in a sharp breath. “What are these?”

“Uh,” Keith said, “that’s where – hormones, and our seed, that’s where they come from – you don’t have anything like that?”

Lance shook his head, rising up to kneel so his body was out of the water. “Not externally. I do have this, though.” And he took Keith’s hand and guided it between his legs, behind his cock. Petrified, Keith didn’t move a single finger, eyes widening as his sharp claws delved into soft, wet heat, and something almost like the water around them but thicker and much warmer. “You can touch,” Lance reminded him.

Keith hesitated, and then sheathed his claws, the loud _scchhnick!_ sound startling Lance. “That’s handy,” Lance joked, silencing when Keith slid a finger inside of him. Keith was entranced by the copious amount of slickness trickling out of Lance’s hole and covering his hand in pale blue ooze, and couldn’t help but wonder if there was usually so much or if Lance’s body was instinctively trying to prepare itself for Keith’s cock. The thought made his blood run hotter and his cock harden further. That smell…that smell in the steam was overpowering, now, making it harder and harder to think. Keith shook himself. _Focus._

“Even your fingers are – ah – large,” Lance gasped, slumping forward into Keith’s chest as Keith carefully worked a second finger inside. It wasn’t difficult, Lance was pliant and more than willing, his breath ruffling Keith’s fur as Keith worked him open. “You’re good at this, have – have you really never – _mmm_ – done this before?”

Keith shrugged, the movement shifting his fingers deeper inside Lance, who shuddered encouragingly. “Only on myself,” he said. The Altean whined at that, gazing up at him with disbelief and definite interest. Keith licked his lips. “Most male humans – aren’t self-lubricating and cannot bear children, but, there is an…internal gland that can be stimulated and…L-lance?”

Lance’s hand was creeping around Keith’s hip and over his ass, fingers slipping between the cheeks and rubbing tentatively at the furl of his hole under the water. “Here?” Lance asked, voice low.

“Um, yes, but – should I stop? What do you want me to –”

Lance kissed him, and Keith hadn’t even realized that they hadn’t kissed yet, and felt a little bad that he’d put his fingers inside Lance before giving him a kiss first. Lance was so soft, so smooth and pretty as he crawled into Keith’s lap and licked into his mouth, making sweet little purring sounds when sharp fangs clicked against his teeth.

Keith still couldn’t decide whether Lance was brave or stupid, only knew that he wanted to fuck him desperately.

Galra had a superior sense of smell to most species, including Alteans, so Keith knew Lance had no idea how divine he smelled right now. The scent of his arousal was what he’d been smelling in the air, Keith realized as they kissed, not perfume in the steam at all. It was _Lance_ , and though Keith had never smelled the distinct scent of _mate_ before, he imagined it was not dissimilar from this. Lance was not a Galra, but he was fertile and receptive and the most gorgeous thing Keith had ever seen.

Keith had never considered himself to be bold; his life thus far had been one of keeping quiet and knowing his place. But Lance’s open, untempered lust gave Keith the nerve to treat him the way his instincts were telling him to. His hands were large on Lance’s slender hips, so large that his thumbs met in the middle of Lance’s stomach as he lifted Lance up, claws unsheathing and digging into his skin to hold him in place, the Altean squirming and breaking away from the kiss at the rough handling. Keith tucked his head into Lance’s neck, fangs grazing delicate skin, nostrils flaring.

“Keith?” Lance gasped, pawing at his chest and trying to wriggle free, stilling abruptly when the head of Keith’s cock nudged at the wet, open place between his thighs, another gush of slickness leaking out and coating Keith’s aching cock. Keith growled, wanting to yank Lance down onto it, but managed to stop himself.

“Are the anatomy lessons over?” Keith gritted out. “Because you smell…incredible.”

Lance’s pupils dilated. “You can _smell_ me?!”

“Yes,” Keith murmured, nosing along his jaw. “I can smell how much you want me, how much your body wants me.”

Lance’s chest rose and fell shallowly. “So there’s a fire in there after all,” he said faintly. “Is…is this some kind of Galra mating drive?”

“Mm,” Keith replied, licking over Lance’s markings and rubbing the head of his cock against Lance’s slit, which was equally swollen with arousal. “Wanna fuck you and knot you and fill you up, knock you up…”

A thin, needy whine fell from Lance’s lips. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m on the most effective birth control on the planet,” Lance informed him, patting Keith’s back shakily. “Can’t have dozens of future heirs running around, now can we.”

Distantly, Keith registered the words _future heirs_ and thought, _Huh?_ but more importantly he registered Lance sinking down on him with a moan, the water rippling around them as his smaller body stretched around Keith’s bulging cock and struggled to accommodate it. Lance clung to him, Keith’s cock only halfway inside, and let out a strangled whimper when Keith’s hands tightened on his hips and forced him down further. “K-keith, nngh, it’s too – too much, I – _ah!_ ”

“You can take it,” Keith crooned into his ear, nibbling at the shell of it, swirling his tongue around the blue jewels and feeling Lance convulse around him, the Altean’s blunt nails digging into his shoulders. “You were made for this, made to impale yourself on cock, you little slut.”

Lance sniffled and shook his head, hiding his face in Keith’s chest. “N-no, no, I’m not, I –”

“Sluts don’t get to argue,” Keith growled, still working Lance down onto the rest of his length. “Besides, you know it’s true. You practically threw yourself at me at the party. Was this what you wanted all along? Or did you just think I was easy prey, did you think you’d get to fuck me instead, on my hands and knees in this bath where anyone could find us?”

Lance gasped, mouth falling open as Keith’s cock settled inside him in its entirety. “Wanted you to,” he pleaded, “wanted you to fuck me all along, please, please fuck me, Keith!”

“What are you?” Keith asked, low and dark against his twitching ear. “Tell me, say it.”

“A…a slut,” Lance whimpered, looking up at him, revealing his tearstained face. “I’m a slut, I am – mmph!”

Keith kissed him, deep and possessive, moving one of his hands to Lance’s untouched cock, which curled eagerly into his palm and wriggled frantically when he pressed a claw carefully into the tip. Lance cried out into the kiss, hands scrabbling at his chest, and Keith released him, sheathing his claws so he could touch the Altean’s cock properly and, more importantly, brush the tears away from his shining eyes.

Lance’s lower lip trembled. “ _My_ slut,” Keith said in an undertone, satisfied as a blush spread over Lance’s face. “So pretty, even when you cry…but I don’t want you to cry, Lance.”

“Sorry,” Lance croaked. “This is a lot, Keith. You’re…a lot. Oh, dear, are you…baring your teeth at me? How utterly _bestial_ …this was hardly what I…expected from you…oh, oh please, yes, _Keith!_ ” Keith’s hand stroked Lance’s cock in earnest, which was somewhat difficult because it kept trying to curl around his fingers, but it made Lance shudder and tighten around him so it was worth it.

“Do you think you can fuck yourself on my cock now?” Keith asked him, enjoying the slick heat and tightness around his length but wanting more friction and more of Lance’s pleasure. The Altean nodded eagerly, using Keith’s shoulders as leverage to lift himself up, moaning at the drag of hardened flesh against his sensitive rim, rocking his hips down in small circular motions.

“Please, Keith, can you – move with me, fuck me,” Lance whispered, voice ragged already.

“Make yourself come first,” Keith retorted, claws running over Lance’s arched back.

Lance made a dismayed sound. “Wha – why?”

“I want to knot you,” Keith explained, “but I don’t want to…to risk hurting you, so you have to come first, and then you’ll be looser.”

Lance pouted, but he went back to rocking his hips, riding Keith’s cock as best he could. It was so large that he was mostly just shifting around on it, getting used to the fullness and sighing when the head dragged against his softest spots.

Keith’s knot began to swell as Lance neared his finish, moving faster and letting out little whimpers and moans every time he came down, biting his lip so hard Keith feared it would bleed. To prevent that, Keith tipped Lance’s head up and kissed him, not searing and filthy like the other kisses but long and soft and gentle, swallowing every beautiful sound Lance made for him.

His claws scratched lightly through Lance’s hair and he moved his hips as much as he dared, not enough to drive his knot up into Lance but enough to match Lance’s rhythm and bring him to finish. Lance keened sweetly and pulsed around Keith’s cock, the bathwater around them turning faintly blue as he spilled from the inside, cock remaining hard.

That was…interesting. Keith vowed to make Lance come in every way possible by the end of the night.

The hot rush over his cock buried inside Lance felt incredible, and it was all Keith needed to wrench Lance up and flip him so that his chest was flush to the Altean’s back. Lance didn’t resist the change in position, rather the opposite – he slumped against Keith and pushed his hips back, grinding on his cock insistently.

“Please,” he whispered, and Keith complied happily, rutting into him as hard as he’d wanted to earlier. Lance writhed, legs squeezing at Keith’s thighs where he straddled his lap, trying to change the angle, deepen it further – Keith understood and wrapped an arm around Lance’s front, tipping him forward towards the surface of the water and shuffling around until he was kneeling and thrusting into Lance from behind.

Lance shrieked and grabbed for the edge of the bath, his voice shaky as he yelped, “You’re holding me up with one hand, okay, wonderful, glad we’ve – ahh, _fuck me_ – established that, you absolute brute!”

“Brute?” Keith questioned, his voice rumbling, almost unrecognizable as he filled Lance again and again, the Altean’s head thrown back in pleasure, neck bared for Keith to bite and kiss to his heart’s content.

“I mean that,” Lance gasped, “in the f-fondest of w-ways.”

“Sure you do,” Keith chuckled, scraping his fangs over Lance’s shoulder, pleased when Lance arched up into it.

Lance’s body wasn’t resisting the intrusion anymore; rather it was welcoming him in, so slick that the sounds of their coupling filled the air obscenely, slaps and squelches with every inwards thrust, Keith’s low grunts and growls overlaying Lance’s higher mewls and moans.

Keith leaned over him further, pressing Lance closer to the water, and saw where the unyielding girth of his cock split Lance open impossibly wide, the Altean’s puffy slit fluttering when Keith brushed a claw over their joining. He was tempted to sink the finger in alongside his cock, to see just how much Lance’s marvelous body could take, but he knew it would have to take more than just an added finger soon enough.

Keith had only managed to knot on his own once before, so the sensation was unfamiliar and slightly disconcerting as the half-formed bump at the base of his cock grew, catching on Lance’s rim while his thrusts sped up and increased in strength. Lance swore, splashing at the water as he jerked futilely in Keith’s grasp and stammered, “Is – is that –”

“Yes,” Keith panted. “Do you want me to?” He had to be sure; he would not force this upon Lance, even through his haze of possessive, primal lust he was aware of that much.

But to his relief Lance nodded and begged, “Yes, yes, I want to feel all of you,” and that was it, Keith grabbed Lance’s hips, hauling him back up into his lap, and shoved as deep and hard as he could. Lance cried out as Keith’s knot breached him wide and hot, shivering and sobbing in his lap, head falling back limply onto Keith’s shoulder.

Keith continued to fuck him through his climax, pumping him full of cum and holding Lance to him in a tight, warm embrace; one hand covering Lance’s on his wriggling cock and the other holding Lance’s waist firmly in place. He felt Lance come around him and in thin spurts of glowing blue-white from his cock, loud and overwhelmed, calming only when Keith nuzzled at his neck and enfolded Lance fully in his arms.

Lance’s breathing was shallow and his heart was racing, eyes squeezed shut, smooth skin soaked in a layer of sweat. Keith nosed worriedly at his throat and cooed softly in concern, hoping such symptoms were not indications of anything seriously wrong among Alteans. But then Lance stirred, eyes opening and locking onto Keith’s, a slow smile spreading across his tired yet blissful face. Keith cooed again, bumping at Lance’s face with his nose, and Lance giggled, reaching up to pet clumsily at his hair and ears.

Keith was unused to anyone touching his ears, and they flicked in slight annoyance, but it was Lance so he would allow it. “Just like a cat,” Lance laughed, and when Keith cocked his head in confusion Lance just laughed more and scratched behind his ears, and that…actually felt quite nice. Keith hummed and dropped his chin onto Lance’s shoulder. “Not that I don’t appreciate the snuggling,” Lance added, “but how long are we stuck here for?”

“Not long,” Keith sighed, eyelids heavy. “A few more doboshes.”

Lance made a thoughtful sound. “You know Altean units of time?”

“I may not be given the title of a prince but I am given the education of one,” Keith replied.

“And why, if I may ask, are you not given the title of a prince?” Lance asked. Keith stiffened and Lance most certainly felt it. “Apologies, I don’t mean to pry –”

Keith shook his head, sitting back against the edge of the bath, Lance leaning back with him. “My mother was a human woman in Zarkon’s harem,” he said. “She was…as I have been told, a favored whore, but a whore nonetheless.”

Lance turned his head, frowning. “Who told you such a thing?”

“Lotor,” Keith muttered, and Lance’s brow creased. “Anyway, whatever status she had did not matter when she became pregnant and died of a hemorrhage after giving birth to me prematurely. Humans and Galra do not mix well.” He looked up at the vaulted ceiling, chewing his lip. “I realize this is rather awful pillow talk, but you did ask.”

Lance shook his head, touching Keith’s face gently, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone and the bridge of his nose. “You don’t look like Zarkon,” he said.

Keith snorted. “Thanks. That’s one thing I have going for me, I suppose.”

Lance kissed his cheek. “You have many things going for you, Prince Kethyr.”

Keith flushed. “I’m not –”

“You should be,” Lance said, firm and confident, leaving no room for argument. Keith fell silent, and closed his eyes, the warm water lapping against their sides as they waited. Then Lance shifted a little and let out a small groan, and Keith’s eyes snapped open anxiously. “Keith, fuck,” he breathed, “look.”

Bewildered, Keith followed Lance’s gaze and looked down. “Fuck,” he growled in agreement. Lance’s flat belly wasn’t quite flat anymore, and it was barely noticeable but there was a slight distension where Keith was filling him, and when Lance placed his hand lightly over it they both shuddered, unable to look away. “Are you in pain?” Keith managed.

Lance shook his head. “Just…full. There’s a sort of…ache. I’m going to feel it tomorrow, I’m _not_ looking forward to the ball, ugh.”

“Sorry,” Keith mumbled. “I would suggest a warm bath, but, uh…” He looked pointedly at their surroundings.

Lance chuckled, ears twitching in amusement. “And everyone told me Galra weren’t funny,” he said.

“Mostly true,” Keith said. “Maybe humans are funnier.” He shifted and felt himself softening, finally. “This probably isn’t going to feel great,” Keith warned, and Lance waved a hand, wincing only a little when Keith slipped out of him. Keith winced at the resulting mess. “I sincerely pity whoever has to clean this bath,” he said.

“Well, it’s not going to be me,” Lance declared, shakily rising to his feet and offering Keith a hand, which seemed a little backwards, but Keith accepted and let the Altean pull him up and out of the bath. 

Cum was running down Lance’s legs, and there was so much of it that Keith was a little stunned. It was a normal amount for a Galra body, but for an Altean body…it was a bit much. Lance started towards the towels and soap and Keith beat him to it, picking out the softest cloth he could find and dampening it with the floral oil Lance had been reaching for.

“Let me,” Keith insisted, and Lance gave him a strange look, somewhere between surprise and uncertainty, but nodded and let Keith clean him off. He was careful and thorough, and saw Lance’s throat bob with a hard swallow as Keith went to his knees to get the last of it. Keith didn’t particularly like the oil, it masked Lance’s natural scent and the scent Keith had left on him, but it wasn’t unpleasant and Lance seemed to like it. “There,” he said when he was done, tossing the dirtied cloth aside.

“Thank you,” Lance said quietly. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and turned quickly to fetch his clothes, dressing hastily. Apprehensive, Keith did the same, glancing over at him periodically and trying to read his expression. Was Lance displeased? Perhaps sore, or tired? Keith couldn’t help but fret, he’d grown attached. When they’d both made themselves decent, Lance caught his gaze and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

Lance shook his head, smiling weakly. “Nothing, nothing. This was…this was fun. I’m glad I…glad that _we_ did this, Keith.”

“Me too,” Keith said, smiling and ducking down to kiss him briefly.

Lance’s smile looked even weaker when he broke away. “We should return to our quarters, you especially, before anyone sends out search parties.”

Keith blinked. “I doubt they care enough to do that.”

“Best get going anyway,” Lance said briskly. “Follow me, I’ll bring you to the main courtyard and hopefully you can find your bearings from there.”

“Alright,” Keith said, and walked out with him, back the way they’d come. It was late, the palace dark and quiet, the party long over. Lance looked straight ahead, hands clasped behind him, and Keith tried to tell himself nothing was wrong.

They reached the main courtyard and Lance said, “Well, this is where we part ways, then. Goodnight, Keith.”

“Goodnight, Lance,” Keith said, reluctant to leave him. “I…I’ll see you around?”

Lance smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you will,” he said, and hesitated before taking Keith’s hand in his own and lifting it to his lips. He kissed the back of it gently, and then let go. “You are a prince to me,” he said, and Keith’s heart skipped a beat. “Farewell.” He turned on his heel and hurried off around the corner.

Keith looked at his hand where Lance had kissed it, and held it close to his chest.

*

Thankfully, his presence was not required at the talks the following morning; unthankfully, his presence was demanded at the ball. Usually, Keith was content at least in knowing that Shiro was as reluctant to attend these events as he was, but the morning talks must have gone well because he was uncharacteristically perky when he came by to walk Keith to the ballroom.

“What has you in such a good mood?” Keith asked him, fiddling nervously with his cloak and wondering if he’d see Lance tonight.

“I think we may be here for less time than expected,” Shiro said with a smile. “King Alfor was very open to the marriage discussion, and it seems he is willing to support an engagement between his son and Prince Lotor.”

“Not his daughter?” Keith said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought that was the goal.”

“Princess Allura has loftier plans for her future,” Shiro chuckled. “She was quite adamant about not being sent off to Daibazaal – she is deeply involved in helping those in need throughout the city, and leads several outreach programs for rural areas across the country. She aims to expand her work across the entire planet.”

“Charity work and kindness aren’t turn-ons for Lotor, I bet,” Keith said dryly.

Shiro elbowed him. “Prince Lotor was quite civil about the whole situation, actually. Unsurprising, since he was eying Alfor’s son from the start. He is an attractive young man, and charming…ah, here we are, and you’ve managed to make me late to an important event yet again because of your naps, Keith.”

“Sleep is important, I recommend you try it sometime,” Keith grumbled, and put on his politest expression as the servants ushered them into the ballroom. They were slightly late – the first dance had already begun, and as they made their way through the crowd of nobles, Keith saw Lotor on the dance floor, offering his hand to…

“Ah, speak of the devil, that’s Prince Lancellien,” Shiro murmured.

Keith couldn’t breathe. He could only watch with a numb, detached kind of horror as Lance took Lotor’s offered hand with a sly, sweet smile and Lotor swept him up into his arms, a hand low on Lance’s back, Lance’s head tipping up to Lotor’s, Lotor leaning close to whisper in his ear –

Keith stumbled back, needing to leave at once. He couldn’t watch this any longer. Couldn’t even think about it – he felt as if he was going to be sick. Shiro caught his arm. “Keith, what’s wrong?” They were causing a stir. Other nobles were staring and moving away unsubtly. Keith yanked his arm out of Shiro’s grasp and accidentally bumped into a tray of empty glasses, which went tumbling to the floor with a spectacular _crash_ and a chorus of shrieks from everyone in the vicinity.

Lotor and Lance faltered in their dance as the sound carried over the music, and Lance looked towards the source of the commotion…and met Keith’s gaze. Keith stared at him, hoping whatever awful expression he had conveyed the betrayal and anger and hurt he felt right then. Lance’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, face twisting in surprise or guilt or both, and Keith didn’t see anything else because he shoved past the guards who had come to investigate and ran out of the ballroom as fast as he could.

The cold night air was better than the stuffy crowd but it did nothing to quell the roiling emotion in his chest. The prince. Lance was the prince. He hadn’t known who Lance was, but Lance had known full well who _he_ was. And he’d seduced Keith anyway. 

Keith stormed off into the nearest courtyard and sank down on a bench, putting his head in his hands to drown out the cacophony of unfamiliar scents around him, all of them coalescing into a single one, the only one that mattered. But he hadn’t mattered to Lance. Keith supposed he had been naïve, stupid, even, to think that Lance would care at all. It may have been Keith’s first time, but there was no telling how many countless nights Lance had spent fucking strangers in the past. Clearly it was a sort of hobby for him, and he was not in the habit of forming attachments.

But he had been a damn good actor. _You are a prince to me._

Keith’s hands curled into fists. He wasn’t going to cry. Galra didn’t cry.

Humans did, though.

“Keith? Keith!”

Keith jolted upright, every muscle poised to run, or fight, he wasn’t sure yet. It was Lance, or Lancellien, whoever he was, dashing through the courtyard towards him. Somehow he’d untangled himself from Lotor, though he’d surely go crawling back to him soon enough. Keith said nothing, Lance did not deserve his words after what he’d just seen.

“Keith,” Lance said, panting, coming to a halt several palmacs from the bench. At least he was smart enough to not try to come any closer. “Keith, I’m so – I’m so sorry, I –”

“One more lie to add to the collection,” Keith said, cold and flat.

Lance bit his lip, eyes wide and sad. “I did not lie to you,” he said. “I just – omitted truths, and –”

Keith stood up, only slightly gratified to see Lance flinch when he loomed over him. “Does it amuse you to make a fool out of me? Do you often toy with and discard foreign visitors like the spoiled brat you are?”

“I didn’t!” Lance exclaimed. “I didn’t discard you, Keith, I’m here now, aren’t I, I’m trying to apologize –”

“Your apologies mean nothing when you’re signing yourself away to my brother!” Keith snarled. “Is that what this is; are you so sick that you just wanted to check both of Zarkon’s sons off the list?”

Lance blanched. “The – the list? Keith, that’s not, no, that isn’t what I meant at all!”

“Then what did you _mean_ , Lance,” Keith growled. “What did you mean, exactly? Because I don’t think you meant anything at all. I think you wanted an easy fuck as usual and you went for me, not Lotor, because to you I’m no-strings-attached. He’s a _real_ prince, after all, so if you fucked _him_ it would actually mean something!”

Lance reacted as if Keith had slapped him, his face red and expression mortified. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “This isn’t what I wanted, not at all.”

“No? Well, maybe it’ll do you some good to learn how it feels to not get what you want, for once,” Keith retorted.

“Brother, you caused quite a scene back there!”

Both of them tensed as Lotor strode into the courtyard, pausing as he saw Lance. “Lancellien,” he said, tone carefully neutral, gaze flicking to Keith, then Lance, and back again. “Have I interrupted something?” One perfect eyebrow arched upwards.

“No,” Keith said shortly. “Nothing at all.”

“Keith, please,” Lance said, taking a step towards him, but Keith pinned him with a cool glare.

“I would prefer you called me Kethyr from now on,” he said, his gut twisting as Lance’s face fell as spectacularly as the glasses had. “Enjoy the rest of the night, Prince Lancellien. Lotor.” He inclined his head stiffly and left the courtyard as quickly as his feet would carry him.

He did not cry until he was safely locked away in his guest chambers.

*

Keith looked at himself in the mirror for a long while before the talks the next morning. He looked as exhausted as he felt; there were bags under his eyes and a tired set to his mouth, no way around it. He’d made a halfhearted attempt to make himself presentable, but what did it matter, really? He had been right all along, he never should have come on this mission.

Shiro knocked at his door. Keith took a deep, steadying breath, and went to meet him.

Shiro took in his appearance and said, quiet and unhappy, “Keith.”

“I don’t want to discuss it,” Keith said, closing the door behind him and pulling his cloak tighter around himself.

“Lotor told me you and the prince had a quarrel last night,” Shiro sighed. “He seemed to think it was a lover’s quarrel.”

“Stop,” Keith snapped, voice breaking slightly. Shiro looked at him in alarm and Keith ducked his head.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said, brows drawing together. “I’m…Keith, come here, hey.” Before Keith could jerk away Shiro drew him into a hug, and Keith swallowed back a sob, leaning into it. Galra did not hug, but Shiro did, and Keith would never stop being grateful for that. “It’s okay,” Shiro murmured, rubbing his back. “It’ll be okay.”

Keith highly doubted that, but he gave a little nod, and let Shiro squeeze him a few ticks longer before stepping away. “Thank you,” he mumbled as they continued on. “I hope you’re right.”

“You know I’ll fight that prince for you if I have to, right?” Shiro told him seriously, though there was a playful tilt to his lips.

“He’s a valuable ally, I think that would be highly frowned upon,” Keith said, rolling his eyes.

“He should have thought about that before messing with you, because anyone who messes with you, messes with me too. You have my word, Keith.”

Keith didn’t know if he was kidding anymore, so he just patted Shiro’s metal arm and said, “Thank you,” again, softer, knowing that Shiro knew just how much he meant it.

*

Walking into the negotiations chamber felt like walking onto a warzone. Keith staunchly avoided eye contact with anyone, and made his way to his seat between Lotor and Shiro in silence. The Altean members of the council watched his entrance with interest, as he had not been present the day previous…all except Lance, of course.

As Keith took his seat, Lotor touched his leg under the table and leaned in far too close for Keith’s comfort. That was bad enough, but his whispered words were even worse. “I thought I smelled someone familiar on my fiancé. I never would have guessed it was _you_ , brother. Our prince is a bit naughty, don’t you think?”

Keith dug his claws into his own thighs and ignored him with great effort, every fiber of being rebelling against _our_ , bile rising in his throat. He may have been upset with Lance, but nobody deserved to be married to Lotor, not even him. _Especially not him._

King Alfor, who sat at the head of the table, rang a small crystal bell to begin the meeting. Carefully, Keith’s gaze drifted to Alfor’s right, where Princess Allura sat, the woman he’d seen speaking to Shiro at the party. Up close, she looked not unlike Lance, though her face was rounder, her eyes larger and bluer, and she had pink markings on darker skin. She was also older, with a more dignified and mature air about her, emphasized by the bright circlet shining upon her brow.

Oddly, the man sitting beside Allura was the orange mustache guide from their arrival at the palace. Keith was easily distracted from any temptation to look at Lance by watching the man’s mustache move as he talked. Keith had no idea what he was talking about, however, so when King Alfor cleared his throat and said, “Lord Kethyr?” he was totally lost.

Thankfully, Shiro came to his rescue. “Lord Kethyr expressed great support in favor of Princess Allura continuing her work here on Altea when I explained the details to him,” he said. “Right, my Lord?”

Keith nodded. “Yes, it’s a worthy cause, Princess, and should not be hampered by a foreign marriage.”

Princess Allura looked at him with some surprise, then gave a small nod. “I appreciate your support, Lord Kethyr. However, I’m afraid I must raise the question – why are you not given the title of Prince like your brother?”

There was a ripple of murmurs at the table, and a flicker of movement to Alfor’s left that must have been Lance, but Keith didn’t look. Keith went still. Lotor leaned forward in his seat, clearly relishing giving the sordid explanation. “Well, you see, Princess, Kethyr’s mother was –”

Allura raised her hand, mouth set in a thin line. Lotor fell silent. Keith decided he liked Allura very much. “The question was directed at Lord Kethyr,” she said. “I would prefer if he answered it.”

Lotor smiled thinly and sat back in his chair. Keith wet his lips. “My mother was not the late Empress Consort Honerva,” he said quietly. “She was a human in the Emperor’s harem, who died soon after my birth. Thus I was raised under Honerva’s care alongside Lotor, but not given the royal title because I am a bastard. I was lucky to be given a noble title at all.”

Allura’s brow furrowed. “But you and Prince Lotor are Emperor Zarkon’s only sons, correct? Would it not benefit him and the strength of his Empire more to have two princes, rather than just one?”

“Kethyr is already a prince in all but name,” Shiro interjected. Allura gave him a warm look. Perhaps a bit too warm. Hmm.

Lotor bristled, and beside him Sendak glared. “Kethyr is correct, he was lucky to be made a Lord in the first place,” Lotor snapped. “Zarkon could have just as easily banished him, made him a servant, or done what most rulers do to unwanted competition and done away with him altogether!”

“But he didn’t do that.” A new voice, yet not new at all. Lance. Keith resolutely did not look, though everyone else did. “Emperor Zarkon did not kill Kethyr; he chose to raise him with you. As a prince. There are no other common Galra lords on this mission, are there? No, there is a respected military commander, a senior human ambassador, and a prince. It would not make sense to bring a lord along, and you know it. Kethyr has the blood, status, power, and patronage of a prince, even if the title is different – so really, there are two eligible Galra princes in this room.”

“You dare,” Sendak growled, but Alfor’s thunderous expression shut him up.

“There will be no threats exchanged at this table, especially not directed towards my son,” he warned. “Lancellien, speak plainly.”

“I wish to marry Prince Kethyr,” Lance said.

Keith looked at him.

Lance looked back, his gaze steady through the resulting explosion of voices from around the table. And as Keith stared at him, disbelieving, shocked, yet so very hopeful, Lance mouthed, _I’m sorry._

“I accept,” Keith said.

“ _What?!_ ” Lotor screeched. “You cannot just – expect me to put up with this disrespect –!”

Keith had disliked many aspects of growing up in the Galra Empire. But one of the worst aspects, by far, had been the constant pressure to dominate others, to be the strongest, the biggest, the most powerful. Keith had never been that person, and in hindsight, maybe that was why his title was what it was, why Zarkon had not accepted him fully as his son, why Lotor had always been one step ahead. But at that table, in that moment, he felt more like that person than ever before.

So Keith didn’t flinch when he turned to Lotor and said, “That is exactly what I expect. I have put up with it my entire life, brother. We are here to secure an alliance and if you cannot set aside your personal pride and do what is best for our people and our future, you are a very poor prince indeed. Prince Lancellien has made a proposal; I have accepted it as is my right.”

“You have no _right_ to Altean royalty,” Lotor hissed, though his ears were pinned back in a way Keith had never seen on him before. “I am the one with Altean blood.”

Allura spoke up. “This is no personal slight on you, Prince Lotor. But upon further consideration, it has become clear to me and Lancellien that it would be unwise for him to marry you and bear your children.”

“Unwise,” Lotor repeated, seething. “How _so_.”

“It would be inbreeding,” Allura said coolly. “Honerva was our father’s sister, making you our first cousin. Children of such matches are often born with various defects. And we all know the Galra Empire’s stance on defects of any kind.” She nodded to the orange mustache man. “Coran has run various tests and simulations, and I assure you that many of the results of such a union are…unfortunate. Some could even end in severe complications for Lancellien.”

Alfor’s eyes widened. “Severe complications?! Why didn’t you say so earlier? I will not condone a match that puts my son in danger.”

“There is one other thing,” Lance said, biting his lip and trying not to smile. Allura had failed, and was hiding her smile (badly) behind her hand.

Lotor’s claws were leaving marks in the table. Keith could care less.

“What,” Alfor said warily.

“Prince Kethyr and I have already consummated the marriage,” Lance said. Alfor heaved an exasperated sigh and Lotor gritted his teeth. “So, you understand, it would be _terribly_ improper for me not to wed him.”

“Is this true?” Alfor asked Keith, eye twitching slightly. Keith felt bad for him; he doubted it was easy to have Lance as a son.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Keith said, lowering his head respectfully.

Lotor banged his fist on the table. The guards tensed, and he slowly unclenched his fist, though he didn’t look happy about it. Alfor raised an eyebrow at him. “Prince Lotor, do you have an objection?”

Keith knew that for all his arrogance, Lotor at least knew when to back down; knew when he’d lost. Sure enough, he shook his head. “I do not,” he gritted out, “given the facts presented.”

Sendak did. “My Prince, you cannot seriously allow Zarkon’s runt to –”

“It is what is best for the Empire,” Lotor said curtly. “I…” He looked as if it physically pained him to say it. “I support the marriage between Prince Lancellien and my half-brother Lord Kethyr.”

“Prince Kethyr,” King Alfor corrected. “I will speak with Zarkon about elevating his title, as should have been done years ago. And yes, I support the marriage as well…and I am glad at least one of my son’s late night escapades resulted in a good match.”

“The last of my late night escapades,” Lance added, smiling brightly at Keith. “I think I have all I could ever want, now.”

Allura made barfing sounds behind her hand. Lotor pouted like the spoiled brat he was. Shiro hugged Keith again as they all left the chamber.

And Lance? Lance looked up at him, took his hand, and kissed it. “My prince,” he said.

Keith kissed him, and felt Lance melt into it with pure relief, his arms winding tightly around Keith’s neck. “My prince,” Keith agreed, and bumped their noses together with a smile.


End file.
